


How Vetinari Solved the Syrian Conflict

by phoenixflight



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Assasination, Bad guys die, Crack, Dictatorship, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fix-It, Gen, Humor, Inspired by Real Events, Real Life Crossover, Real life is dumb, Vetinari prods buttock, War, the Discworld does it better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are so much more <i>sensible</i> on the Disc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Vetinari Solved the Syrian Conflict

**Author's Note:**

> The Syrian conflict is a very real and serious struggle. I am in no way trying to belittle or make light of the people who have lost their lives, or those who are fighting for their survival and their loved ones. Additionally, the source of the problem is vastly more complex and difficult than I have portrayed here.  
> This is just an expression of my frustration and rage over the brutal helplessness of the situation. It always seemed to me that things get done so neatly on the Disc. Vetinari would never dither while Assad goes on slaughtering people. (Vetinari would never be caught dead dithering at all.) It is so clear to me that going to war will only result in more loss of life, but at the same time, sitting doing nothing is unconscionable. I wish the real world was so easily and neatly dealt with.  
> While the ongoing tragedy in Syria is no laughing matter, this is humor, because it was write this or write an angry ranty blog post instead like the hundreds of others out there.  
> The conflict in Syria should absolutely be taken seriously, and my whole heart goes out to those who have been affected by it. I mean absolutely no offense.

Vetinari sighed, and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I think it is time to take action,” he said at length, “Butchers as well as shepherds and so on, but every butcher must sometimes put down his cleaver and join the shepherd for the shearing. A butcher who fails to do so ceases to be of use to the flock.” 

“A masterful grasp of the ovine industry, my lord,” said Drumknott, his head clark, standing attentively beside his desk. 

“Indeed. This calls for an intervention. Perhaps even... an audit.” 

“Surely not, my lord. That seems excessively brutal.” 

“As you say, Drumknott. We will have to send a... diplomat.” Silently, Drumknott, who knew his master, slid a file across the desk. Vetinari glanced at it. “Ah. An interesting choice. Graduated from the Assasin’s school without honors, I see. I always felt honors were come by easily and for the wrong reasons at the Guild school. And several years experience as a clerk here. Well done, Drumknott, see to it.”

So it was that a lone clerk was dispatched to deal with one of the most unstable and violent dictators on the Roundworld. He had shiny shoes, a briefcase full of legal documents, and nimble fingers, good for handling something small, like a pen, say, or a knife. And with very little fuss, Mr. Assad had a Regrettable Incident. 

And then... paperwork happened. 

Men with neat jackets and letters after their names talked calmly in air conditioned rooms, while nearby other men, possibly with bushy beards, shouted a lot and waved weapons around until they ran out of breath, at which point they were given a cup of tea and had a little chat with one of the clerks, and left much calmer, if somewhat dazed looking. 

Things got written down, and revised, and passed around, and nodded over, by serious people in serious clothing. It was all very official, or at least had lots of long words in it, which is nearly the same thing. 

In due time, a quiet man by the name of Kuzbari came to be appointed to the vacant post of leadership. No one was quite sure they had ever seen him before, but he seemed rather the level headed sort, and no one likes to admit ignorance in front of peers, so with much nodding and exclaiming of “Fine man, knew him at school” and drinking of _raki_ , Kuzbari became president. 

There was a distinct lack of bloodshed, or thumbscrews, or various other hallmarks of dictatorship, but some people are never happy, which is how Syria came to have its first guild, the Guild of Rebels. They held monthly sing-songs, and everyone agreed they looked quite dashing in their revolutionary arm bands.


End file.
